


Wish I May, Wish I Might

by Jazzblades



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Disaster Bi Bruce Wayne, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Rimming, Slow Burn, assumed unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25618159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzblades/pseuds/Jazzblades
Summary: Bruce had been making his way through his normal patrol route, in the midst of another summer rainstorm, when he stopped atop the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse located near the docks. That’s definitely the sound of a fight, Bruce mused to himself. His eyes were quickly drawn down to the skirmish below him, but he didn’t jump in quite yet. He crouched down at the edge of the roof, ready to spring into action if necessary. But first, he needed more information. There were about fifteen men, all armed with weapons ranging from lead pipes, knifes, to a couple handguns. There was one man, however, who had captured Bruce’s attention above all the others.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & His Kids, Bruce Wayne/Slade Wilson
Comments: 32
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome! I hope you are all doing well! I hope you an your loved ones are safe and healthy!
> 
> Just so you know I will be marking the chapters with explicit content and if you feel I'm missing any tags please let me know. 
> 
> I'm really proud of this work and I hope you guys like it too! Enjoy!

Bruce had been making his way through his normal patrol route, in the midst of another summer rainstorm, when he stopped atop the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse located near the docks. That’s definitely the sound of a fight, Bruce mused to himself. His eyes were quickly drawn down to the skirmish below him, but he didn’t jump in quite yet. He crouched down at the edge of the roof, ready to spring into action if necessary. But first, he needed more information. There were about fifteen men, all armed with weapons ranging from lead pipes, knifes, to a couple handguns. There was one man, however, who had captured Bruce’s attention above all the others. This man moved with such ferocity… But his movements also appeared effortless and graceful in equal measure. The way his body moved in the fight was like a dance, perhaps, or poetry in motion. The man’s opponents dropped almost as soon as they made a move against him. The fight was over almost as soon as it had started. Bruce hadn’t even needed to jump in. It was impressive. It wasn’t often that he found himself so intrigued. It is difficult to impress the Batman, after all. There are only a handful of people he’s met in his life who have been able capture his attention in such a way. He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

The melee was over, a champion stood victorious. He wasn’t even out of breath, Bruce noticed. He filed that information away for later dissection. Then the masked man’s face turned to stare up at him. Bruce was frozen in place for a brief moment, feeling somewhat like a voyeur. He shook himself of his thoughts and grappled down to be on more even footing with none other than Deathstroke the Terminator himself.

The rain was now only a light drizzle as Bruce’s feet hit the ground. He made his way over to the other man at a leisurely pace.

“Didn’t feel the need to jump in, Bats?” His voice was gruff, but Bruce could still hear the smirk in it. Even with his full coverage mask.

“You seemed to have it handled.” Bruce shot back, his heart seeming to increase in rhythm slightly, as he now stood directly in front of the mercenary.

Deathstroke let out a short laugh, shaking his head with mirth. Bruce felt heat rising to his cheeks at the sound of his laugh. Keep it together, he ordered himself.

“Well then, I hope you enjoyed the show.” The mercenary quipped, mock bowing. He hadn’t even drawn any of his weapons. Bruce also made a quick mental note of that.

“A show?” Bruce questioned, raising an eyebrow behind his mask. “Were you expecting an audience?”

Deathstroke chuckled again. “Now, now Bats, you know I don’t kiss and tell.” What’s that supposed to mean?

“Your boss order this?” Bruce gestured towards the group of unconscious men behind him.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Slade replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Bruce blew out a sharp breath. He didn’t know what else he expected. He would find out soon enough why the mercenary had made a stop in Gotham. Most likely with someone’s demise.

“And I assume you’re not going to explain why you’re back in Gotham so soon after last time?”

Deathstroke stepped a little closer. “Well,” He drew the word out, “that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted, his eyes narrowing.

“As fun as this has been,” Deathstroke said after a brief pause, “I have places to be, people to see, the usual. I’ll see you around, Bats.” And then he spun around to walk over to his motorcycle a short distance from where the group of unconscious men haphazardly lay. Bruce ‘s eyes seemed to lock onto Deathstroke’s broad, retreating shoulders. His arms. The strength they hold. He knows Deathstroke has superhuman strength and isn’t afraid to utilize it. He could so easily just pin Bruce down underneath him, keep Bruce right where he wants him as Bruce claws at his back, feeling so vulnerable and exposed but also safe at the same time…

Bruce shakes his head against those thoughts as the roar of a motorcycle brings him back to reality. The bike begins to speed away and Deathstroke shoots him a jaunty two fingered salute as he rides past him.

Bruce watches him until he is completely out of sight. _Oh no._ This can’t be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I maybe projecting my disaster bi self onto Bruce? Probably. Flirting? I don't know her. Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed it so far. I'd love to hear all of your thoughts! Thanks so much for reading, I really appreciate it!  
> Much Love!


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of patrol was relatively quiet with only minor things requiring his attention. So, he decided to make his way back to home base just as the final remnants of the storm subsided. Stepping out of the Batmobile he was quickly met with the sounds of his squabbling children. He sighs. He loves them all dearly. They are, without a shadow of a doubt, the most precious things in his life. They have given his life so much meaning and heartache and joy. But could they _not_ fight for a _few_ more hours? That’s all he’s asking.

“No! You’re the one who said it would be a good idea to taunt the guys with guns!” Tim yells.

“Hey! I was trying to get their attention off of flippy boy over here.” Jason snarks back.

“I had it perfectly handled! I _have_ been doing this thing longer than any of you.” Dick replies.

“Tt.” And that would be Damian, “You did not have that “perfectly” handled, Grayson. If it wasn’t for my surprise attack, you might be riddled with holes right now!”

“You played a very minor role in this whole thing, brat. So, don’t go around inflating your ego.” Tim spat.

“What would you know, Drake?” Damian growled. “You were too busy hiding behind those crates!”

“I was trying to stop Jason from doing something stupid!”

Jason scoffs, “I was only doing the stupid thing because Mr. I’ve-been-doing-this-longer-than-any-of-you decided it would be a good idea to just flip into action without telling us his plan!”

Bruce had finally made it from the car park to where he could now clearly see everyone standing around the main area of the cave, still fully in uniform.

He noticed Duke lean into Cass. “Do they do this often?”

“Too often.” Was her sharp reply, a grin turning up the corners of her mouth. She gave a small wave when she saw Bruce. He waved back, a small smile on his face. Then he turned his attention back towards the ongoing argument.

“Well, I’ll have you know that taunting works nine times out of ten.” Oh, Jaylad, why must you give your father so much gray hair?

“That is not a proven fact, Todd!” Damian fired back.

“Enough.” Bruce barely had to raise his voice to break through their argument. He made quick eye contact with everyone gathered around. “What’s done is done. You can write all your grievances in your report, but now it’s time for everyone to get changed and go to bed. Understood?”

There were a myriad of responses to his orders, but they all shuffled off to do as they were told in the end. The fight seemed to have leaked out of them once Bruce had interrupted it, because they seemed to be on much friendlier terms with each other now. Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, Jason playfully shoved Tim with a cheeky grin on his face, Tim lightly punched Jason’s shoulder in retaliation, Duke’s laughter was hidden behind his hand. Cass came up and gave Bruce a quick kiss on the cheek before skipping off to join the others.

“Nothing too major to worry about, I assume?” Alfred queried as he moved to stand beside Bruce.

“It was a pretty quiet night, overall.” Bruce replied, giving his father figure a small smile.

“Very good, sir.” Alfred bowed his head slightly then turned to finish putting away some files Tim had left on the desk.

Bruce sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders to help release some of the tension that had built up there, and made his way over to the Batcomputer, and fell heavily into the chair. He has some things he should probably check up on.

“Bruuuce!” Bruce blew a short breath through his nose. _What now?_

“Yes, Dick?” He asked as he spun to face his eldest child.

“When were you going to tell us Deathstroke’s back in town?”

“Deathstroke’s back?” Duke turned to face their direction more fully, making his way to stand next to Dick.

“Do we have any idea of what he wants?” Tim asked, appearing practically out of nowhere, and joined in on their little circle.

“I have no idea. I ran into him earlier this evening. He was fighting a group of men at the docks. They seemed a little low grade for Deathstroke to be going after.” Bruce pushed the cowl off his head and ran a hand through his sweat damp hair. “We’ll have to watch out for any signs of trouble.” Bruce concluded.

“Can’t believe Slade’s back in Gotham. He was _just_ here a couple of months ago.” Jason said, arms crossed over his chest, his hair still dripping from his post-patrol shower.

“He has been showing up a lot in Gotham recently.” Damian mused.

Cass wandered over and leaned against his chair, “Must be important.”

“So…” Dick drawled, “Are we just going to sit back and wait for Slade to do something?”

“We don’t know what he’s up to, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to confront Slade directly until we know more.” Tim replied.

Bruce turned over his interaction with Slade earlier in his mind. There wasn’t much to gather from it, and Bruce _had_ been a bit… well…distracted.

Alfred soon joined them. “Well, there’s no use worrying about it anymore tonight. To bed, all of you.” And he started shooing the kids away. They all wished him and Alfred goodnight as they made their way back up to the Manor, Alfred and him returning the sentiments. “That includes you, Master Bruce.” Alfred shot him a look over his shoulder.

“I’ll be up shortly, Alfred. I have a couple things I need to check before I head up.”

“I see. Do not stay up too late, sir, or I will have to drag you to bed myself.”

Bruce chuckled a bit at that. “Will do.”

“Goodnight, Master Bruce.”

“Goodnight, Alfred.” And then he was gone, leaving Bruce alone in the cave.

There was a beeping sound coming from the monitor behind him. He spun towards it and answered the call. Barbara’s face soon appeared on the screen.

“Anything I need to worry about?” Bruce asked her.

“Nothing yet. I heard you guys discussing Deathstroke. I just called to say that Slade’s been lying low so far. There haven’t been any deaths that fit with his MO and none of my other sources are showing a clear picture of what or who might have called him to Gotham. But I’ll keep looking.”

“Thank you, Oracle. Keep me updated when you can.”

“Sounds good. Night, B.” She cut the connection and Bruce was once again left to his own thoughts.

Well, there’s really no point sitting around doing nothing. Anything he could do Barbara had most likely already done. He might as well turn in for the night and get a couple extra hours of sleep. He does have to attend the charity gala happening tomorrow night. Bruce stood from his chair, turning off the systems, and made his way over to the changing area.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has explicit content

Bruce is still wide awake. He can’t seem to bring himself to go to asleep. His body feels spent, but his mind doesn’t want to shut off. He lies on his back staring up at his ceiling, feeling frustrated. He also can’t seem to get Slade out of his head either. He doesn’t know why Slade’s captured his attention so thoroughly. But then again, he _is_ drawn to dangerous people. Bruce bites his lip. He does know a way that _might_ ease some of his frustration.

He slowly trails a hand down his body, his fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of his abdomen. He pushes his hand past the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers curling around his half-hard cock. He lets out a quiet gasp as they fully circle him. Then he starts to slowly pump his hand. Up and down, building up his need for release. His eyes flutter closed. His breathing begins to speed up, his heart rate increases. Bruce can almost imagine Slade propped up above him, Bruce’s legs wrapped securely around his waist. Slade’s hand would be the one wrapped around Bruce’s leaking cock, pushing him closer and closer to the edge with each stroke. Bruce imagines Slade leaving marks up and down his exposed throat, his tongue tracing them once he’s done, while Bruce clings desperately to him, leaving his own marks along his back and shoulders. The marks would heal almost as soon as Bruce leaves them though. Bruce speeds up the pace of his hand some more, his image of Slade so clear in his mind, fueling his need. Bruce lets out a quiet moan, catching himself before he cries out the mercenary’s name. Bruce brings his legs up, planting his feet firmly into the mattress, and begins rocking his hips up and down in time with the rhythm of his hand. Heat pools low in his belly. He’s so close. He speeds up a little more, feeling his orgasm fast approaching. He wants it, he wants it so badly. He wants Slade, he wants Slade to absolutely wreck him. _Oh, Slade._ Bruce bites his lip hard to keep some of his noises from escaping. Suddenly, Bruce can’t keep it in, he inhales sharply. “Slade…" He moans into the quiet solitude of his room as he’s finally taken over the edge, his cum spilling over his stomach and hand.

He lays still, panting. He closes his eyes tightly. He feels heat quickly rise to his cheeks as embarrassment sweeps through him. Slade probably has absolutely no interest in Bruce, so Bruce really should not be thinking of the man in such a way, but… No. Bruce has no chance in hell of being with Slade in _any_ capacity. He’s not sure if Slade is even interested in men. So, he should _stop_ thinking about him. Bruce isn’t even sure why this is bothering him so much. This isn’t exactly the first time he’s had these thoughts about someone and them showing no interest in him… But this doesn’t quite feel like those times either. He thinks a little bit harder about it, actually trying to figure out his feelings on his own, for once. That’s when he realizes. He doesn’t just want Slade to fuck him (though he wants that too), he wants more than that. He wants Slade to pull him close and just hold him in his, truly spectacular, arms. He wants to just sit and kiss him for hours and hours without a care in the world. He wants to hold Slade’s hand as they sit and drink coffee in the kitchen. He wants Slade to want him, and to want him not just as someone to sleep with, but as something…more. But he knows that could never happen.

Bruce sighs. He rubs a hand over his face, feeling a new tightness in his chest. Why did he have to develop feelings for someone so far out of his league? It’s…Bruce doesn’t even know how to describe this feeling. But what else can he really do? These feelings aren’t just going to magically disappear overnight just because he wills it so. And Slade keeps showing up more and more in Gotham, so he can’t just avoid him and hope the distance might help _make_ them go away. He can’t let people, especially not Slade, know about his…infatuation.

He’s bad at this. He’s _really_ bad at this. Why do feelings and emotions have to be so complicated?

Bruce hasn’t had a serious partner since Selina and him split up a few years ago. And the last man he was with was when Tim was still Robin and before he got together with Selina.

Good job catching feelings for one of the few people you don’t stand a chance of being with, he thinks to himself bitterly.

Bruce listlessly pulls himself out of bed and makes his way to his ensuite bathroom. He doesn’t even turn on the light. He grabs a washcloth, wets it, and begins wiping himself down. Once he finishes cleaning himself up, he throws his now soiled sweats in his hamper and puts on a fresh pair. Then he trudges his way back to his bed and collapses atop it. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ It takes a while, but he finally manages to fall into a fitful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Tonight is the night of the annual ‘Help the Children’ charity gala held at Gotham’s Museum of Art. Bruce will be attending solo because his children all made excuses to get out of it and someone has to patrol the city while he suffers through making idle chit chat with people who could care less about helping the children… Just suck it up, he tells himself. He straightens his bow tie one more time as Alfred pulls the car up in front of the entrance where a sea of reporters and photographers are gathered. He sighs heavily and mentally prepares himself for what is to come.

“Steady on, Master Bruce.” Alfred reassures him.

“I’ll do my best. I’ll see you in a few hours.” He clasps Alfred’s shoulder briefly before he faces the public onslaught. He steps out of the vehicle and instantly twenty or so voices start shouting to get his attention. He smiles and waves at them, making his way up the museum steps not stopping to give a statement or pose for a photo.

“Mr. Wayne!” A familiar voice calls out once he’s finished climbing the steps to the museum’s entry way. Bruce turns to face none other than Vicki Vale.

“Ah, Ms. Vale. So good to see you again.” Bruce remarks, the corners of his mouth tightening at the sight of her. Vicki Vale has been one of the few people who have gotten close to figuring out their costumed identities. In particular Tim. Tim had to go to extreme measures to help protect them. Every time he sees the video of his son being shot; he feels his heart stop beating. Just for a moment. He knows it was all a ruse, but that’s still his son’s face. So, no, he is not a fan of Vicki Vale.

“Wonderful to see you too, Mr. Wayne. It’s been too long.” Her eyes seem to shine with dangerous intent. “I just wanted to get your side of the story. Are the rumors true that you and Batman are, in fact, secretly lovers?” He was not expecting that. Definitely not that. His kids are going to eat this up, though. Unless they were the ones to start the rumor in the first place…

“No, Ms. Vale,” He bites out, “the Batman and I are not together. I am a strong supporter of him, yes, but that does not me he and I have anything beyond a passing acquaintance. If you’ll excuse me, I really must be getting to the gala.” And he turns away from her, making his way quickly into the museum foyer. The room is full of Gotham’s elite bedecked in their finery, jewels glimmering prettily and champagne flowing freely. Bruce adjusts his cuffs, puts on his Brucie smile, and dives right into small talk and fake laughter. He’s already tired.

Bruce has been wandering, chatting with different important people all around the room, checking in on business partners, politicians, a few lawyers, as well as Mrs. Adley. Mrs. Lillian Adley has been coming to these events for as long as Bruce can remember. He remembers his mother being quite close with her. She’s been married four times and her latest husband died earlier this year. Bruce isn’t sure if it’s just bad luck or if she’s doing it on purpose. Either way he hasn’t been able to prove it.

“Oh, Bruce dear. I’ve missed you. I haven’t seen you at the last couple of events.” She says, grabbing the hand without a glass in hers.

He laughs a little. “I’ve been quite busy recently. All of my kids have been home, so I’ve been trying to spend as much time with all of them as I can.”

“That’s sweet of you, dear. I’m sure their quite happy to have you all to themselves.”

“I sure hope so.” He grins down at her, giving her hand a light squeeze.

“You know I don’t mean to pry, but indulge an old woman her curiosity, but are you seeing anyone?” Mrs. Adley began. “I know you have your wonderful children and Alfred, of course. But I think you could also use your own partner in crime.” She says wryly. He almost chokes on his sip of champagne. Her eyes gleam with mischief.

“Oh no, Mrs. Adley…”

“Lillian, please, dear.” She places her other hand gently on his arm.

“Of course—Lillian. You see—I’m very happy as I am. My children are amazing and brilliant and kind and...” He trails off. He usually isn’t so lost for words. He coughs to clear his throat. “I’m perfectly content not having a partner.”

“I see.” She murmurs. “Well, I wish you all the happiness in the world, my dear, but it is quite late, and I fear I’m losing feeling in my feet. I hope to see you again soon.” She smirks up at him.

He lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles lightly. “Goodnight, Mrs. Adley.”

She just laughs at him good naturedly and saunters away, heading straight for the doors. Bruce feels a grin tugging at his lips. He greatly enjoys speaking with Mrs. Adley at these functions. She has always been able to brighten his mood with her sharp wit and knowing smiles. Bruce deposits his still half full glass of champagne on a side table and decides to wander through the museum and observe some of the art. He begins heading towards the photography exhibit when I voice calls out for him.

“Bruce.” He turns and is greeted with the sight of an old business acquaintance, Percy, and one Slade Wilson. Bruce has to suppress the urge to outright gape at the man. Bruce thought he looked good in his armor but him in a tux is just as captivating. “I ran into Mr. Wilson earlier and we began talking and you came up and since you’re here I thought I would make an introduction.”

He faces Percy first. “Great to see you again.” Then he turns towards Slade. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wilson.” Bruce holds out his hand.

Slade clasps it in his own, a grin gracing his features. “Slade, please. And it’s wonderful to formally meet you as well.” His hand is large and warm, and Bruce feels the brief movement of Slade rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand. Is that supposed to mean something? Then Slade pulls his hand away.

“I guess I’ll leave you two to chat.” Percy claps on hand on Bruce’s shoulder a couple times then heads back into the sea of people. Slade watches him go, before turning his attention back to Bruce. This is the closest he’s been to Slade in a while. He can clearly see his roguish grin as well as his steely blue eye now that his mask and Gotham’s night life aren’t interfering.

“So, Bruce,” Slade starts, “Enjoying the party?”

“Never really been a fan of these things.” Bruce replies, feeling heat rising up his neck.

Slade lets out a bark of laughter. “No kidding.” He soon finds himself turning a bit away to hide his own grin. His eyes look out at the other people milling about. Bruce feels Slade step even closer to him, their arms brushing. _Keep it together, Bruce._

“How long have you been in Gotham, Mr. Wilson?” Bruce asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“A few weeks.” He replies vaguely.

“Business or pleasure?” Bruce raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’m hoping it will be a bit of both.” So, Slade is here for a contract. Now they just have to figure out what it is, so they can stop any unnecessary bloodshed. It won’t be easy, but he has an amazing team behind him ready to back him up. Then Bruce’s thoughts screech to a halt at remembering the other meaning to his words. Slade seems to be hoping to have a little bit of fun while he’s in Gotham, Bruce assumes. He feels like a pit is growing in his stomach. No. He shouldn’t feel disappointed. He has no claim over what Slade can and can’t do, especially in regards to whatever his pleasure ends up being.

“I see.” Bruce mumbles. He can feel Slade’s eye on him. Assessing him. _Deflect, deflect, deflect._ “And I can assume your business might require a certain vigilante’s intervention?”

Slade snorts. “If he can catch me.” His tone is filled with mirth. Bruce faces him more directly.

“He’ll find you. He always does.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Slade responds, voice low, his expression open and relaxed. Bruce’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. That’s when he hears the noise. Both him and Slade look up at the chandelier above them at the same time. Time seems to slow as the light fixture starts falling towards them. He feels the wind knocked out of him as Slade grabs him. They roll a couple times before coming to a stop with Slade landing above him. Slade has an arm wrapped around Bruce’s back and his other hand cradling Bruce’s head, so it won’t hit the unforgiving tile floors. He briefly glances over at the wreckage that is now in the place of where they once stood.

“You okay?” Slade asks, eye boring into him.

“I’m— I’m fine. Thanks.” Bruce stammers, locking gazes with Slade. He hopes Slade can’t hear how fast his heart is beating right now. Or see how flushed his cheeks probably are.

“Oh my! Are you two alright?” People flock around them, hands reaching down to help them both up.

“We are, thank you.” Bruce responds for them both. He glances over to Slade and then quickly darts his eyes away. Slade doesn’t see you that way, he reminds himself. But oh, how he wishes he did.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce is sitting at his desk, trying his best to stave off a headache as he stares at the worksheets Lucius had sent over. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He could really use some more coffee. Then he hears the door to his study opening. He blinks at the figure in the doorway. It’s Jason.

“Did you need something, Jay?”

Jason licks his bottom lip, standing just outside of the room. Bruce didn’t think he still had that nervous tick. “Uh, yeah. Can I come in?”

“Of course. Have a seat.” Bruce gestures to one of chairs in front of his desk. Jason quickly closes the door behind him and sits himself down. “So, what did you need to talk to me about?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve seen this.” Jason pulls out his phone, swipes a couple times until he comes up with what he wants, and slides it over to Bruce. It’s a picture from the gala a couple nights ago. And it’s not just any photo. It must have been taken right after the chandelier fell because there Slade and he are, on the ground, starting at each other. Bruce is at a loss for words. Who took this? Why? What are people saying about it?

“I’m guessing by your face this is the first time you’re seeing this.” He glances away from the photo to look back at Jason. “People are wondering if you’ve hired him as private security.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunts, eyes returning to the picture.

“I know other people won’t see it, but I know you, Bruce.” Jason takes a steadying breath. “Do you have a thing for Slade?” Bruce chokes on air. _What?_ This is not good. Not good at all. No one was supposed to find out.

He must look as panicked as he feels because Jason jumps in to reassure him. “It’s not a big deal, B. I just thought I’d ask. I haven’t seen you look at anyone that way since Selina, so thought I’d see if our hunch was right. None of us are judging you for this, B.” Oh, no. They all know. “Come on, old man. You trained us to be detectives. It would be remiss of us to _not_ notice you’ve got the hots for Deathstroke.”

“I—” What can he say? Really, what can he say?

“B. I know you’re freaking out right now, but you really don’t have to worry. As long as you’re happy, we’re happy.” Jason grabs his wrist and gives it a firm squeeze. “Got it?”

“I got it, Jay.” He says, giving his son a small smile. The panic tightening his chest beginning to, ever so slightly, ease.

“Good. Glad we’ve got that all squared away.” Jason says, returning his smile, and leaning back in his chair after grabbing his phone back.

“Did you need anything else?” Bruce asks.

“Nope.” He says, glancing down at his phone, then he starts tapping away.

“So, since all of you know about—” He pauses, trying to gather his words, “about me. Why’d they send you?”

Jason snorts. “We had a whole debate about who should do it. There was a whiteboard involved and everything. I ended up being the one picked. So, here I am.”

“I see.” Bruce says, amusement lacing his tone. “And I’m guessing you just texted them to tell them how our chat went.”

“Obviously.”

There was another question he thought he should ask. “Why did you all feel the need to ask me about this?”

“Because you wouldn’t have told us you’ve got a thing for Slade.” Jason raises a brow, daring him to refute it. “And I know we’re still trying to figure out if he’s involved in anything, but that hasn’t stopped you from being with people before. I mean, your thing for dangerous individuals is how we ended up with Damian.”

He sighs, placing his head in his hand. So much for staving off a headache.

“I mean, you could do a whole lot worse than Slade. You _could_ want to get with Killer Croc, for all we know.”

“Jason…” He grumbles.

“No. I don’t think you’d go for Croc.”

“Jason, please.” Bruce groans. Why are his children like this?

“Oh wait! I forgot!”

Oh Lord, help him.

“You’re already in a very committed relationship with Batman.” He pulls his head out of his hands to glare at Jason and he’s met with a shit-eating grin. What has he done to deserve this?

“I can still ground you, you know.”

“Pfft. As if. I’m just telling it how it is, B.”

He sighs. “As fun as this has been, I really should be getting back to work.” And he picks the worksheets back up, signaling the end to their conversation.

“Alright. Talk to you later, old man.” Jason stands from his seat, stretches a little, then marches out the door, leaving it wide open.

Of course.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s the day after his—conversation with Jason. He’s currently sitting at the kitchen table reading through the newspaper. To his right, Dick munches on cereal and to his left, Duke and Damian are debating whether or not animals can understand human language. He’s pointedly staying out of _that_ discussion. His phone vibrates against the table, signaling a text. He picks it up and stares at the message in confusion. It reads: I’ll be at the café off of 6th and 11th at 1:00. Feel free to join me, followed by a winking emoji, Slade. He has no idea what this means. Is Slade taunting him?

“Bruce. Is something wrong?” Dick asks, imploringly. The other two have also stopped talking and are staring at him. He hands his phone over to Dick without a word, so his eldest can read the text. “So…Are you going to go?”

“Go where?” Damian’s brows furrow. Dick hands Bruce’s phone over so Duke and Damian can read it as well.

“You should go.” Duke says, after he’s done reading it.

Dick grins. “I think you should too.”

“Why?” Bruce questions.

“Why not? Bruce. We know you like him. And this could be a good way to get to know him better.” Dick exclaims, using his hands to better express his point.

“And you could use this as an opportunity to figure out what his plans are.” Damian adds.

Duke hands back his phone. “If nothing else, you get to have a conversation with someone who isn’t us. Go out and live a little, B.”

Three against one. Guess that means he’s going. “Fine.” He grunts, then texts Slade that he’ll be there.

Three cheers ring through the room.

―――――

Bruce is nearly there. Why is he so nervous? This isn’t a big deal. He’s just going to go talk to Slade, try to figure out what he knows, and then head home. Bruce steps into the café where a young woman is working at the hostess stand.

He clears his throat to grab her attention. “Hello. I’m, um, meeting with somebody.”

Her face brightens. “Right this way, sir.”

He’s led through the indoor seating area and is led outside. His eyes scan the tables until they land on Slade. He’s dressed casually, jeans and a t-shirt that is quite form fitting. Bruce can clearly see the outline of his pecs through it. A pair of aviator sunglasses round out the look. Is there any look this man _can’t_ pull off?

“Bruce. Thanks for joining me.” Slade smiles warmly up at him.

“Of course.” Bruce replies, taking the seat opposite Slade.

“Your server will be with you shortly.” The hostess explains, then makes her way back inside.

Bruce feels quite exposed in this setting. It’s much different than him as Batman or even Brucie. Now he’s just Bruce. There’s not many places to hide.

“So, how are the kids?” Slade inquires.

Bruce’s eyes narrow slightly. Is he threatening his children? “Why do you want to know?” He asks sharply.

Slade puts both his hands up. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Your kids are important to you, so I thought I’d ask.” He supplies.

“They’re fine.” He replies shortly. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Slade sighs. “Bruce, look. I know you’re suspicious by nature, but I’m not here to gloat or threaten you or your loved ones. I invited you here so we can get to know each other better.”

Is this a trap? Why would Slade want to get to know him better?

“Okay.” He finally mutters. Just then their server shows up and asks them for their order. They both order black coffees.

“Alright. I’ll have those out shortly. If you need anything else feel free to ask.” Their server gives them a smile and walks over to the next table.

“So, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” Bruce raises a quizzical brow at his companion.

“Anything you want to share.”

“Well—I’m 37, I have six kids, I was obsessed with the Gray Ghost as a child, and my favorite color is blue.”

Slade chuckles a bit. “Blue’s your favorite color? I thought for sure it would be black.”

Bruce crosses his arms. He knows his cheeks are turning a bit pink. “Just because I wear a lot of black does not mean it’s my favorite color.”

“Of course, of course.” Slade says, leaning forward to rest his folded arms on the table.

“Are you going to tell me about _yourself_?”

“You probably know most things about me already, with all your little files.” Slade smirks. “But here are some things you might not know. I once jumped out of a plane without a parachute to see if I could survive it, I have two kids, and my favorite color is green.”

“Not orange?” Bruce teases.

“Green Arrow kind of ruined the appeal of wearing a green uniform.” Bruce can’t hold back his laughter at that comment.

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.” Bruce says, once his laughter dies down.

“Please do.” Slade replies, equally as amused.

Just then their server comes back brandishing their coffees. “Can I get anything else for ya?” Slade faces Bruce, quirking a brow in question.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Bruce smiles at the waiter.

“Nothing for me either.”

“Sounds good. Enjoy.” And he’s gone once more.

Bruce sips at his coffee, trying to think about what else to talk about. Should he make another attempt to figure out why Slade is back in Gotham? It couldn’t hurt. “You mentioned the other night that you have business here?”

The corner of Slade’s mouth lifts up a little. Bruce’s eyes lock on Slade’s lips. _Look away, Bruce._ He focuses on his coffee instead.

“I do. But it’s not anything you need to worry about.”

“And why’s that?” He looks back up at Slade.

“Because it’s not one of my regular jobs. It’s a favor for a friend.”

“And that’s supposed to put my mind at ease?”

“No. I didn’t really expect it to.” Slade admits. “My friend asked me to keep it quiet, so I can’t tell you what it is I’m doing. Just know that what I’m doing is for a good reason.”

Bruce stares intently at Slade’s face. He wishes his eye isn’t covered by those sunglasses. He knows that Slade could be lying to him. He is a highly trained professional assassin. But there’s this part of Bruce that wants to trust him, wants to believe him. Slade and Bruce might not agree on their methodologies, but if someone needs Slade’s help, he shouldn’t keep him from it. “I believe you.”

Slade’s face seems to soften, his shoulders relaxing. He reaches out and grabs one of Bruce’s hands and squeezes it. “Thank you.” Bruce feels his face flush as he gives the hand in his a light squeeze back.

“Do you guys need any refills?’ Their server’s voice pulls Bruce back to the here and now. He quickly pulls his hand away and places it in his lap.

“We’re good, thanks.” Slade answers for them both. That was too close. Bruce can’t afford to savor these indulgences. Slade does _not_ think of him like _that_. “Bruce. You okay?”

Bruce startles a little at the unexpected question. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Slade’s mouth is turned down in a bit of a frown. “It looked like you were thinking hard about something.”

“Oh.” Bruce puts on one of his society smiles. “Nothing to worry about. I was just thinking about what one of my kids said earlier.”

“Okay…” Slade draws the word out.

“I’m fine, Slade. I promise.” There’s nothing wrong…Except Bruce can’t let Slade know that he has feelings for him. They can work together, maybe even be friends, but Bruce needs to suppress these urges if he wants that to happen. He doesn’t want to make things uncomfortable for Slade by acting on what he’s feeling.

Slade leans back in his seat, arms on the armrests. He gives Bruce a wry smile. “I don’t think we’ve finished getting to know each other yet. How about you tell me about your hobbies?”

“My hobbies?” Bruce asks, brow furrowing.

“Yeah. Besides your obvious nighttime activities.” Slade’s grin turns devious.

Bruce rolls his eyes at that. “Well, Alfred and I have been collecting first edition copies of books for years now.”

“Interesting. Didn’t peg you for an avid book reader.”

“I’m not really. It’s just—Alfred and I have been doing it for years. It makes me feel closer to him. And when Jay came to live with us, he wanted to join us too.” His smile suddenly drops. “We stopped collecting them for years afterwards. It was too painful a reminder.”

“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” Slade’s voice is much softer.

“No. It’s fine. He’s back now and I couldn’t be more grateful.” He tries to give Slade a reassuring look. He coughs to clear his throat. “So, what do you like to do for fun?” He asks, while taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee.

“I like to fuck.” Bruce was not prepared for that answer. At all. He chokes on his mouthful of coffee, coughs wracking his body. _Oh, God._ This man will be the death of him. Really? Who says shit like that?

Bruce finally stops hacking up a lung and glares at a smirking Slade. He looks way too amused after watching someone choke on their drink. “It’s not funny, Slade.”

“It’s kind of funny.” He says, chuckling.

Bruce groans.

“You did ask.”

“I was expecting you to say something like go for a run or watch TV or something. Not—that.”

Slade’s head tilts to the side just a bit. “It’s really not that big of a deal, Bruce. Sex is and should be fun for all parties involved.”

“I’m aware.”

Slade’s grin becomes something a lot more mischievous. “I should’ve figured. You do have a ton of kids.”

“Only one is biologically mine.” Bruce retorts.

“See. We’re learning so much about each other.” He gestures with one of his hands, grinning broadly.

Bruce narrows his eyes at him, then finishes his cup of coffee. Slade laughs a little at his passive aggressive actions.

“Alright. I have to know.” Slade pauses for a moment, making sure he has Bruce’s full attention. “Are you and Batman secretly lovers in the night?”

“Slade!” He shouts. Now his cheeks are most definitely a burning red.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Slade teases.

“You’re unbelievable.” Bruce mutters, rolling his eyes.

“You know it, baby.” Is Slade’s reply. Bruce freezes in place. Did he just call him ‘baby’? _It’s just a joke, Bruce._

Thankfully, he is saved from any further embarrassment by the return of their waiter. “All good here? Do y’all need anything else?”

“Just the check, please.” Slade turns to face the boy more directly.

“Yeah, of course.” He pulls the check-holder from one of his apron pockets and hands it to Slade. Slade pulls out a card and hands the holder and card back to their server. “Be back in a jiffy.”

Bruce stares at Slade in confusion. “I could have paid.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Slade gives him a blinding smile.

“Slade. I am one of the wealthiest people in the country, I can pay for a couple cups of coffee.”

“And I have plenty of money of my own. Next time, you can buy, okay?” Bruce’s breath catches. Next time? What’s that supposed to mean? It _would_ be nice to hang out with Slade some more. As friends.

“Fine.”

Their server is back and hands everything back over to Slade, wishes them a good day, and goes about his work. Slade pulls out a couple hundred dollars and places them with the check. Bruce tosses down a few himself. Servers deserve better wages, after all. They both stand from their seats and make their way back through the café to the street side by side. Slade walks with him all the way back to Bruce’s car.

“Thanks for meeting with me. I had fun.” Slade says, standing close enough that Bruce has to look up a bit to fully see his face.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I’ll see you around.” He gives Bruce a final smile before walking away. Bruce takes a deep breath, then gets behind the wheel of his car. He drives all the way back home solely focusing on his breathing. Once he parks the car in the garage, he lets his head fall forward, so it rests against the steering wheel and groans. He’s never going to get over Slade if they keep meeting with each other. Why is he so _weak_? He just can’t resist being around him. He’s funny and clever and undeniably attractive… Bruce never stood a chance.


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce is currently in the middle of handling whatever contrived plan Black Mask has cooked up. Black Mask must be trying to expand his reach. Cass and Tim are beside him on the rooftop, as they stake out the almost empty parking lot below them. It seems Black Mask is setting up for an arms deal. He counts at least five boxes, most likely filled with firearms.

“I count at least nine guys so far.” Tim tells them, peering through his binoculars. “Definitely hired by Black Mask.”

Bruce _hmms_ as he starts cataloguing the danger each of the men pose.

Tim lowers his binoculars and turns his face towards Bruce. “So, what’s our plan?”

“We have to wait until the buyers get here, then we’ll have to strike hard and fast.”

Cass leans closer to him and taps his arm as a warning sign.

“Good plan. Simple.” He hears from behind him. Bruce relaxes slightly at the sound of Slade’s voice. Slade walks forward to stand beside the rest of them. “I like it.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Tim hisses.

“Relax, kid. I’m not here to stop your little operation. In fact, I’m here to help.”

Tim snorts.

“It’s the truth.” Cass says. Tim turns to his sister, surprise evident even with his cowl on.

Bruce focuses his attention on Slade. After a moment’s consideration, he gives him a nod. If Slade’s offering his help he’s not going to turn it down. Especially if Cass says he’s telling the truth. Movement out of the corner of his eye draws his attention back to the scene below A new group of cars has just shown up. By Bruce’s count, ten men have shown up on the buyer’s side.

“Get ready.” He tells them, primed to leap into action. “Now.”

They swing into the fray, Tim throwing down smoke pellets to disorient their opponents. The smoke won’t last long out in the open air like this, so they better be quick. Slade fits effortlessly into their little team. He never gets in the way of any of them and intuitively knows when they need an assist. By the time the smoke clears, they have taken care of most of the men. Soon, only one man is left standing. He’s built a lot like Bruce is, which means it might take him a moment to take him down.

“I’ll handle this.” He tells the others.

They start circling each other. The other man sizes him up. Then the man lashes out with his fist. Bruce dodges the punch and goes to take the man’s legs out from under him, but he backs out of the way of Bruce’s sweep. It appears he has some training. Interesting. They trade blows back and forth looking for an opening. Bruce takes his opening and leaps up, wrapping his legs in a chokehold, taking his opponent down. He hears a quick “Oh fuck me” from Slade and then Tim saying “Please don’t. I _really_ don’t want to know.” He turns to look at them and Cass is giggling while sitting on the roof of one of the cars. Tim and Slade are standing side by side, with Tim not so subtly side eyeing the man.

“Red Robin, call this in. Black Bat you’re with me on restraints. And…” He trails off. He doesn’t know what he can assign Slade to do. He’s not really part of their group, and Bruce doesn’t know how well ordering him around would go over.

“I can help. I am pretty good with restraints.” Slade says, hands resting on his hips.

Tim makes a choked noise. Bruce gives him a concerned look.

“I’m fine, B. I’m just—going to go make that call.” He wanders a bit away, head bowed. Bruce will have to ask him about it later. 

The rest of them make quick work of restraining the men, dragging them away from their vehicles. Bruce also checks the boxes and finds a multitude of different firearms. He snaps a few photos of the contents as well as some of the goons and sends them off to Oracle. Once finished with all their tasks, they make their way back up to the rooftop. There’s soon a beeping in his ear. He taps his comm.

“Yes?”

“I got the information you sent me, B.” Oracle responds. “And it looks like Black Mask was trying to get weapons to some heavy hitters. Looks like you busted some of Penguin’s men. And I’ve gotten word from Hood that he stopped a similar buy, but from Two-Face’s guys. Batgirl and Robin also reported something similar with buyer’s connected to the Falcone family.”

“It appears Black Mask was planning for these groups to take out each other or us.” Bruce muses.

“Those are the most likely scenarios. I have some more digging to do. I’ll check back in if I find anything. But it’ll take me a while.”

“Understood. Thank you, Oracle.”

“No problem. I’ll talk to you soon.” And with that she severs the connection.

He turns back towards his kids and Slade, feeling exhaustion settling over him. “It doesn’t look like we can do much more tonight. Let’s head back to base.”

“Okay, B.” Tim says, walking over to the other side of the roof, glaring at Slade as he passes. Cass shakes her head slightly, pats Slade on the shoulder, and follows her brother. Before he knows it, it’s just him and Slade.

“I—appreciate you helping us.” He says, after a weighty silence.

“Anytime, Bats.”

Another silence.

“How are things with your friend?” He asks.

“They’re good. I helped them out of a tough spot, so now they’re doing much better. Thanks.”

“That’s… That’s good to hear.” Why is this so awkward? Is he this bad at small talk? Or is he just this bad when it comes to people he has feelings for?

Slade steps closer to him. “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

“Okay.” Silence settles between them once more. He clears his throat. “I should be heading back. The others are probably wondering where I am.”

Slade puts a hand on his shoulder. “Of course. I’ll leave you to it.” He then begins walking to the side of the roof. He turns back for just a moment. “Goodnight, Bats.” Then he disappears over the edge.

“Goodnight.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit content

It’s a little after 3:00 in the afternoon and Bruce is currently standing in front of the door to Slade’s safe house. Slade had texted him earlier that day asking if he wanted to come over and talk. Bruce had agreed. Now he’s here. He’s not quite sure what to do with himself. It will all be fine. It’s just talking. He finally gathers the courage to knock. He hears the sounds of locks turning, then the door opens. Then there’s Slade. He’s sporting loose fitting pants and a t-shirt. His feet are also bare. He gives Bruce a warm smile and ushers him inside. Bruce kicks off his shoes by the door after he closes it behind himself. Slade’s safe house is not what he was expecting. It’s bright and minimalistic, almost industrial? Bruce likes it. It suits Slade.

Slade gestures to the couch in the middle of the space. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Bruce takes a seat and gazes up at Slade.

“You want anything to drink?” Slade asks, gesturing to the kitchen behind him.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He says, his lips twitching up in a bit of a smile. He feels on edge and he doesn’t know why. He knows Slade won’t hurt him. So, why does he feel like jumping out of his own skin?

Slade settles in on the other side of the couch throwing an arm over the back. Slade smiles at him again. He has a really nice smile.

“What did you want to talk about?” Bruce asks.

“I’m fine with anything.”

They spend about forty-five minutes talking about topics ranging from Bruce’s kids, how work is going, places around the world they’ve travelled to, and so on. After the initial awkwardness, Bruce relaxes as their conversation progresses. They’ve petered off into silence, just kind of staring at one another.

“I’ve wanted to tell you something for a while.” Slade admits, a serious expression on his face.

“Okay.”

“I like you, Bruce.” _Wait, what?_

Bruce opens and closes his mouth a couple times; words just won’t come out.

“I have feelings for you.” Bruce thinks his brain has just stopped working. Slade has feelings for him? _Him_?

“I—uh…” Bruce can’t seem to even form a proper sentence. He was not expecting this. He wasn’t expecting Slade to like him back. However, Slade seems to be drawing back from him, shutting himself off from the openness they were sharing earlier.

“No!” Bruce shouts, out of nowhere. Slade jerks in surprise. He has to fix this. He reaches out and grabs on of Slade’s hands in both of his. “I like you too.” His words tumble clumsily out of his mouth. Slade’s eye is locked onto his face. Bruce feels like he can’t breathe. Please let him believe this, Bruce pleads.

Slade’s free hand comes up and rests against Bruce’s cheek. He’s leaning closer.

“Can I?” The words ghost over Bruce’s lips. A shiver of anticipation runs through him.

“Yes.” Bruce’s voice is barely a whisper. He’s not sure who leans in first, but now they’re kissing. It’s amazing. At first, the kisses are slow, gentle. Then Slade starts to build up the intensity. Bruce’s hands grab at the front of Slade’s shirt pulling him ever closer. Slade’s hands land on his hips, where he drags Bruce up, so Bruce can straddle Slade’s lap. Bruce’s fingers somehow find their way into Slade’s hair, tugging on it lightly. Slade’s arms wrap tightly around him. One rests around his waist while the other is around his shoulders with his hand resting at the base of Bruce’s neck. They break apart, Bruce gasping for air, as Slade’s mouth latches onto Bruce’s jaw. His lips stop just by Bruce’s ear.

“Come to bed with me?” A shiver runs down Bruce’s spine.

“Please…” He begs, already feeling entirely undone.

Slade stands, holding Bruce in his arms as if he weighs nothing at all. All Bruce can do is cling to him. Before he knows it, they are in Slade’s bedroom. Slade lays him down on the bed, working on stripping Bruce of his clothing. All of his clothes are quickly discarded alongside Slade’s own shirt. A breath catches in Bruce’s throat as he looks at Slade in all his shirtless glory. Slade gives him a knowing look, smirk firmly in place.

Slade takes up a position kneeling between Bruce’s spread legs. He’s so exposed. But it feels amazing.

“I want to try something, if that’s okay?” Slade asks, hands caressing his thighs.

All Bruce can do is nod. Speech has pretty much abandoned him. All of sudden Slade is lifting the lower part of Bruce’s into the air, so only his head and shoulders still rest against the bed. Bruce instinctively wraps his legs around Slade’s head to anchor himself. Slade moans. He can now feel the slight burn of Slade’s beard as it rubs against his sensitive skin. It’s not an entirely unpleasant sensation. Bruce isn’t sure what to expect. He has no idea what Slade has planned for him, what he wants to try. Bruce feels the slightest pressure of Slade’s lips against his hole. Bruce gasps at the unexpected feeling. Slade practically growls at the sound, tightening his grip around Bruce.

“Oh…” Bruce is utterly overwhelmed. Slade presses his lips against him again and again, drawing more and more gasps from Bruce. He feels like his skin is on fire.

Slade darts his tongue out, licking at Bruce’s entrance.

“Slade… Slade, please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. He just needs more.

Slade’s tongue starts going faster, alternating between quick, little licks and longer, wetter ones. Bruce is grasping at the sheets, trying to keep himself from simply floating away. It’s so good. Slade is so good. Bruce feels like he’s on the edge, ready to fall. Then Slade’s teeth graze his hole ever so slightly.

“Ahhh…” Bruce practically screams in ecstas.

Slade presses a few more kisses against his entrance before he pulls his face away from Bruce’s ass. Bruce is panting, staring up at Slade. He’s beautiful. He’s so goddamn beautiful. Bruce has spent so long convincing himself that Slade could never want him. But Slade does. He really does. He can feel a few tears leak from his eyes.

Slade quickly lowers him back to the bed, before crawling up, so that they can be face to face.

“Shhh, baby.” He says, wiping some of Bruce’s tears away with his thumb. “You were so good for me. You don’t even know.”

Bruce feels like a livewire. He’s panting and trembling and crying and Slade’s right here.

“Slade…” His voice is soft.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He peppers kisses across Bruce’s face, savoring each one.

Bruce is starting to feel much calmer. He doesn’t feel like he’s on the edge of a cliff anymore. Bruce places a hand against Slade’s face, and directs it so they can kiss again. The kisses are unhurried, more of a reminder. Slade’s hand wanders across his skin, before his thumb brushes against one of Bruce’s nipples. Bruce gasp against Slade’s mouth. He can feel Slade’s grin against his lips.

Slade pulls back, staring down at Bruce.

“Do you think,” he begins, “that I could make you come with just my fingers?”

Bruce moans, his body filling with need.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Slade says a smirk firmly on his face. He plants a quick kiss against Bruce’s lips. “Just a sec.”

He rolls to one of Bruce’s sides, before he turns to rummage through the bedside table drawer. Bruce takes a moment to admire his unobstructed view of Slade’s back. Is he drooling? Just then, Slade turns back to him, a bottle of lube in his hand. He squeezes out a generous amount and starts rubbing his fingers together to warm it up. Slade is laying on his side right beside Bruce with Bruce flat on his back.

Slade leans closer to mouth at Bruce’s neck. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes.” He says. He _needs_ Slade to touch him.

Bruce spreads his legs a bit farther apart to make it easier for Slade. Slade reaches his hand down, taking his time. One of his fingertips lightly presses at Bruce’s entrance. Bruce inhales sharply.

Slade’s mouth is like fire against his neck. He can feel the bruises forming already.

“I’m going to make you feel so good. Make you scream my name. Make you beg for me.” _Yes._ Yes _._ He wants it. He wants it _all_.

Slade starts pressing his finger inside. Bruce is already panting. It’s been so long since he’s felt this way. Once the finger is fully inside of Bruce, he pauses. Once Bruce’s breathing has slowed a bit, Slade starts moving it. In and out. In and out.

“Mm…Slade…” It’s not enough.

As if he could read his mind, Slade begins adding another finger. His motions are slow. Precise.

“Please…more…” Bruce begs. He’s not sure Slade will understand what he’s asking for. But somehow, he does. He starts working his fingers faster, going deeper on each thrust. Slade’s fingers hit his prostate, and he sees stars.

“Slade!” His back arches in pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” Slade’s fingers keep finding the spot, drawing Bruce closer and closer to the edge. He’s getting so close. Then Slade adds another finger.

“Please! Slade!” It’s so much. _So close._

“Slade!” His vison goes white. He’s shaking. Gasping for air. He slowly comes back to himself. Slade’s fingers working him through his orgasm. Bruce lays still. After a moment Slade pulls his fingers out. Bruce whimpers at the loss.

Slade’s lips press against the underside of his jaw, but Bruce catches Slade’s own sounds of pleasure. Bruce glances down to see Slade’s hand down his own pants, stroking himself.

“Slade?” Should he be doing something? Should he be the one touching Slade?

“Shh, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

Slade pants into the side of Bruce’s throat. He feels more than hears Slade’s moan of pleasure as he chases his own orgasm.

Bruce feels completely spent. He doesn’t even think he can move right now. His breathing is slowing down, his heart not beating as fast. Being with Slade is even better than he could have imagined. The corners of Bruce’s mouth lift up a bit. Slade pulls his head up so he can look more fully at Bruce. Bruce lifts his hand to run his fingers over Slade’s face. Slade turns a bit to place a kiss in the palm of his hand. Bruce could get used to this.

“How’re you feeling?” Slade asks.

“Good. Really good.”

Slade gives him a soft smile, then leans down to kiss him some more. It doesn’t last long. Slade pulls away, standing from the bed, and takes off his now soiled pants. He walks off to what Bruce assumes is a bathroom. He comes back carrying a damp washcloth and sets about cleaning them both up. Bruce is struggling to keep his eyes open. Slade somehow removes the stained bedding, barely moving Bruce in the process.

Finally, Slade gets back into the bed. Bruce grabs his arm and pulls. Slade follows him down easily. He turns onto his side, drawing Slade’s arm over his waist. Slade kisses the back of jis neck, then reaches to pull the sheet over them, curling back around Bruce.

“Sleep.” Slade presses a quick kiss to where Bruce’s neck and shoulder meet.

Slade is really warm. It’s nice. Bruce lets out a contented sigh, closing his eyes fully. Being in Slade’s arms makes him feel safe and secure and…wanted. He’ll have to go over his interactions with Slade over the past—however long—to see if Slade was actually showing signs of interest for him. But for now…He’s just going to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Bruce wakes slowly. His bed feels different. It smells different too. His eyes widen and he sits up hurriedly. This isn’t his room. He looks around, looking for clues. And that’s when he remembers. Slade. Slade and _him_. He turns towards the other side of the bed and finds it empty. He frowns.

He takes his time getting out of bed, stretching as he goes. He then rummages through some of Slade’s things pulling on a pair of his boxers and loose-fitting t-shirt. It smells like Slade. Bruce takes a moment just to inhale the scent. He also makes a stop in the bathroom. When he looks in the mirror, his eyes widen in shock. His neck has hickeys all over it. They are deep and purple. He reaches up a hand to gently prod at them. Still tender. He’ll have to cover them up at some point. He doesn’t want his kids to freak out. He can pull a turtleneck off in the summer, right?

When he can’t put it off anymore, he wanders out of the bedroom and follows the sounds of life coming from the kitchen. Slade is standing with his back to Bruce, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. After a moment of hesitation, Bruce strides over to Slade, wrapping his arms around him from behind and resting his head between his shoulder blades.

He can feel Slade’s laugh through his back. It’s nice. Slade pats his arms, then turns so they can be face to face. Slade has a soft smile on his face. He leans down and kisses Bruce.

“Morning, sunshine.” He whispers against Bruce’s lips.

“Morning.” Bruce mumbles back, sinking further into Slade’s embrace. He moves his arms from around Slade’s wait to wrap around his neck, going in for another kiss.

Slade pulls back and plants a kiss on his forehead. “Go sit down. I’ll bring you some food.”

They detangle from one another, and Bruce makes his way over to the small table. He sits in one of the chairs near the wall, so he can watch Slade. Slade is facing the stove, cooking something. After a couple of minutes, Slade walks over carrying two plates of eggs and two mugs of something. From the smell, he’s guessing coffee. Bruce takes his dishes from Slade and takes a long sip of coffee. He’s hoping it helps him wake up more.

“Just a sec.” Slade says, standing from the table and walking back to the bedroom. He soon walks back out holding Bruce’s phone. “This has been going off for a while. Thought you might need it.”

Bruce takes his phone from Slade and looks down. He unlocks his phone and is met with a lot of text messages in the family group chat.

Dick: Bruce?

Are you still with him?

Is that why you aren’t texting back?

Have you been kidnapped?

Bruce!

Tim: If your dead B I’m not bringing you back this time

Damian: Father. Your lack of contact is concerning.

Last we heard from you, you said you were going to talk to Wilson.

If he’s done anything to harm you, he will surely regret it.

Cassandra: Safe?

Duke: Why’d he go silent? He usually doesn’t leave us hanging for hours

Jason: Cause he’s an ass

And I’m with the brat on this one.

I’ll totally kick Deathstroke’s ass

Alfred: You will do no such thing. We must trust Master Bruce on this.

Dick: But what if something happened???

Duke: Should we be doing something??

Cassandra: Worried

Barbara: I’ve checked the signal and it looks like he’s still in the same spot.

His phone’s still on.

He just unlocked it.

Bruce: I’m fine. I appreciate all of your concern and I’m sorry for worrying all of you. I’ll be back later

Then he turns his phone off and places it onto the table. He reaches for his mug of coffee and takes a much larger gulp of the liquid.

“All good?” Slade asks, a brow lifted and an amused smile on his face.

“Yeah. My kids were just worried.” Bruce explains. “And they might be plotting your demise.”

Slade laughs.

They finish their meal in comfortable silence, then clean up their dishes. After that’s all done, Slade leads him back over to the couch. Bruce curls into Slade’s side with his head resting on Slade’s shoulder. Slade’s fingers running through his hair. It’s really nice. They still have a lot to discuss, no doubt about it. But he’s sure they’ll figure it out. For night now he’s content to just sit and cuddle with Slade.


	10. Chapter 10

It’s once again raining in Gotham, soaking the world and washing away some of the dirt and grime. Bruce is in the middle of a pretty standard fight with some low-level enforcers at the docks. Penguin’s men, most likely. Looks like they are waiting for a shipment of some kind. He’ll have to check with Oracle later.

He’s fighting about seven men. One takes a swing at him with a pipe, which Bruce easily dodges while taking down another opponent with an elbow to the temple. He disarms another one, tossing the gun away from the fight. Someone gets a lucky hit on his shoulder, but he moves with the motion and kicks his assailant in the chest. Bruce uses his cape to distract him before spinning to knock out one of his other attackers. He takes two more down with quick succession. Whips around and tosses a batarang to divest the man of his knife, then takes him down too. Bruce continues his onslaught. Before long all of his opponents are either down or unconscious. He stands up straight and starts pulling restraints from his belt.

Once he’s secured them, he checks in with Oracle.

“Got it boss. I’ll check and see who hired them to make sure. I’ve also already called it in.”

“Acknowledged.”

He signs off and starts walking away from the restrained men when he notices a shape up on one of the rooftops. He has a pretty good idea of exactly who it is. The figure leaps down and makes his way over to Bruce.

“Didn’t feel the need to jump in?” He asks.

“You seemed to have it handled, Bats.” Bruce can hear the amusement in his tone. Bruce can’t help the small smile pulling at his lips.

“I hope you enjoyed the show, then.”

Slade laughs. “I _quite_ enjoyed it.”

A voice over his comm draws his attention. “Please, stop flirting.” Tim’s voice sounds pained.

“I think it’s sweet.” Dick responds.

“Of course, you’d say that.” Jason retorts back.

“Batman, please inform Wilson that I will not hesitate to ruin him if I must.”

“Robin.” Bruce scolds.

Slade throws his head back and laughs.

“He can hear us, can’t he?” Duke asks.

“Yes.” Bruce replies.

Jason raises his voice. “Hey! Deathstroke! You hurt our dad, I’ll make sure they never find your body.”

“That’s enough, all of you.” Bruce orders. He lets out a put-upon sigh. So much for a night of no fighting.

Then Cass’s voice comes through soft and sure. “I like him.”

There’s a brief, collective silence over the comms, then his kids jump into another argument. Bruce just taps his comms, so he no longer has to listen to it. He looks over and sees Slade has taken his helmet off. Bruce can now see his mischievous grin.

“Don’t worry. They’ll warm up to me eventually.”

Bruce returns his smile, and comes up to Slade, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

He leans up and kisses Slade. It’s just as good as all the other kisses they’ve shared. Slade’s arms wrap around him drawing Bruce closer. Bruce melts into his arms. He could really get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the official end to the story. The last chapter is bonus content of stuff from Slade's POV. Thanks for reading!


	11. Bonus Slade Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit content

Slade is standing in Gotham’s Museum of Art alongside Gotham’s elite. He knows he stands out. His large build, his white hair, his eye patch. All indicators that he is something different, something new. Many women approach him, batting their lashes, leaning into his space, each one getting bolder and bolder. He quickly excuses himself from them and grabs a glass of champagne, downing it in one swallow before setting the glass aside. He’s hoping he can run into Bruce tonight. That’s part of the reason he even came here in the first place. That and to get information on whatever the hell Black Mask is up to. He’d gotten a call a couple weeks ago from one of his contacts, after he’d finished his previous job, saying that Black Mask was planning to sell weapons over to some of the other big names in Gotham. He just has to figure out who the supplier is. As long as he gets them, the bats can handle the rest.

His eye catches on a figure standing by a column, casually sipping his champagne. Now there’s someone who can help. The guy is pretty average, not really drawing attention to himself. But Slade knows most of the people working under Black Mask. Time to find out what he knows.

“Hello.” He offers the man his hand. “Slade Wilson.”

The man shakes his hand. “Percy Jacobs. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before.” Percy says, lips pulled back in a grin.

“I’m new in town. My job has me travelling a lot, and they’ve just recently sent me to Gotham.” Every good lie has a grain of truth to it.

“Well, we’re happy to have you.”

Slade chuckles a little. “Glad to hear it.”

Percy grabs another glass of champagne from a passing server and turns back to face Slade. “So, what kind of work are you here for?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“My employer, you might know him, has me checking in with his associates. Can’t have them ducking out last minute.” He gives the man beside him a malicious grin.

His eyes dart to Slade’s eye patch, and his eyes widen. “Oh—oh yes, of course.” The man starts sweating.

“What I want to know is if you’ve met our mutual boss’s supplier?” Slade sets one of his large hands down on Percy’s shoulder, giving it a bit of a squeeze.

“I have. He’s not one of the usual players. Guy calls himself ‘The Executioner’ or something like that. Not sure about his real name.” Percy gulps. He’s nervous. Good.

“Thanks. I appreciate your cooperation.” He pats Percy’s shoulder, and then sticks the hand in his pant’s pocket. “So, what can you tell me about the who’s who of Gotham? I am new and all.”

Percy quickly turns away from him and starts pointing people out. “Well, there’s Mayor Grange, she’s here. Lillian Adley is a very prominent figure. Been married to many of Gotham’s wealthiest bachelors. Darius Wells is one of the city’s most prominent lawyers. Connor Davidson is very big in the tech world. Eloise Robles owns one of Gotham’s largest newspaper agencies. And then there’s Bruce Wayne, of course.”

“Bruce Wayne, huh?” This is as good an excuse as any to go over and talk to the Bat.

“So, you’ve heard of him?”

He shrugs. “Who hasn’t?”

“Bruce Wayne owns Wayne Enterprises. He can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Hm.”

“I can—I can introduce you if you want.”

“That would be much appreciated, Mr. Jacobs.” His smile turns sharp. Percy’s eyes are filled with fear.

Percy leads him through a mess of people until they reach an emptier area, closer to the art exhibits. That’s when he sees him. He’s seen pictures of Bruce in a tux, but they do not do the real thing justice. His back is towards them, so Slade takes this opportunity to check him out from behind. His pants fight him like a goddamn glove. What Slade wouldn’t give to tear them off him. His ass is a work of art in and of itself. God, he just wants to get his hands on him.

“Bruce.” Percy calls out.

Bruce turns to face them, and a look of surprise passes over his face as his eyes land on Slade. Slade smirks at him.

“I ran into Mr. Wilson earlier and we began talking and you came up and since you’re here I thought I would make an introduction.” Percy continues.

Bruce first turns his attention to Percy. “Great to see you again.” What a load of bullshit, Slade thinks.

Then Bruce glances back at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wilson.”

Bruce holds out his hand. Slade clasps it in his own, grin firmly planted on his face.

“Slade, please.” He says. “And it’s wonderful to formally meet you as well.” He can’t help himself, so he brushes his thumb lightly over the back of Bruce’s hand. Bruce takes in a breathy inhale. Slade pulls his hand away, feeling satisfied.

“I guess I’ll leave you two to chat.” Percy says, clapping Bruce on the shoulder a couple times, then scurries off back into the sea of people, not even sending a backwards glance towards Slade. Slade watches him go, before returning his gaze to Bruce. Now Slade has him all to himself.

“So, Bruce,” Slade begins, “Enjoying the party?”

“Never really been a fan of these thing.” Bruce replies, a blush creeping up his neck. Interesting.

Slade laughs. “No kidding.”

Bruce turns a bit away from him, but Slade can still see the hint of a smile. Slade steps closer to him, letting their arms brush.

“How long have you been in Gotham, Mr. Wilson?” Bruce asks, his tone teasing.

“A few weeks.” Slade replies.

“Business or pleasure?” Bruce raises one of his eyebrows at him.

“I’m hoping it will be a bit of both.” Slade responds. Once he’s dealt with the whole Black Mask thing, he’ll have all the time in the world to focus on Bruce. Yes, he’d like to fuck Bruce until he can barely walk. And yes, he also wants to date the fuck out of the man too. And from their interactions so far, it seems Bruce might be interested too. Slade’s watching him, and his expression becomes more serious.

“I see.” Bruce mumbles, after a beat of silence. “And I can assume your business might require a certain vigilante’s intervention?”

Slade snorts at that. _This man_. “If he can catch me.”

Bruce turns to face him more directly. “He’ll find you. He always does.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Slade purrs. Bruce’s eyebrows furrow in what appears to be confusion. That’s when he notices the noise. Both him and Bruce look up at the chandelier above them at the same time. The chain breaks and the whole thing starts falling towards them. Without a second thought, Slade grabs Bruce and rolls them away from the plummeting light fixture. They come to a stop with Slade landing on top of Bruce with one of his arms wrapped around his back and his other hand cradling Bruce’s head. He sees Bruce glance over to where the chandelier has shattered across the floor.

“You okay?” Slade asks.

“I’m—I’m fine. Thanks.” He stammers, eyes now staring up at him. Slade can hear the furious pounding of Bruce’s heart, can feel his unsteady breaths across his face. Slade is lost in Bruce’s eyes. They’re beautiful. He’s beautiful. Slade might have leaned down and kissed him if the other party goers hadn’t reached them.

“Oh my! Are you two alright?” Someone asks, as more and more people flock around them. Hands reach out to help them both up.

“We are, thank you.” Bruce responds for them both. He quickly glances Slade’s way, but then quickly darts his eyes away. Slade frowns. He didn’t mean to make Bruce uncomfortable. He’ll have to be more careful with his interactions. He doesn’t want to push Bruce too hard too fast.

//

Slade is just getting back from dealing with ‘The Executioner’ and taking out that whole operation. It was a lot easier than he thought it was going to be. He’s back at his safe house and ready to head straight for the shower. He strips off his armor, noting some parts that need repairs. After he finishes with that he hops in, letting the hot water cascade over him, helping to release some of the tension in his muscles. Stepping out, he towels himself dry and heads straight for his bed.

Slade just lays there for a moment. He can still picture how beautiful Bruce looked the other night at the gala. How he felt cradled in Slade’s arms. And his lips. God, those lips. Slade had been so close to kissing them. His mind starts to wander. He imagines Bruce kneeling in front of him, his pretty lips wrapped around Slade’s cock. Slade groans, reaching his hand down. He starts stroking himself slowly. What he wouldn’t give to have Bruce laid out before him. Slade would make him feel so good. Make him scream. Make him beg. He wants to taste Bruce on his tongue, wants to feel him shiver beneath his palms, wants to hear every sound he makes. Slade speeds up the pace of his hand, moaning with raw abandon. God, he wants to bury himself inside of him. With his tongue, with his fingers, with his cock. He’ll take everything Bruce gives him. Every little thing. He knows he’s getting close; he can feel it. God, Bruce. He wants him so badly. He can almost hear Bruce crying out his name. Can almost picture Bruce completely unraveling under him. He tightens his hold on his dick, bringing himself even closer to release. “Bruce…” He moans, right as he reaches his peak. He strokes himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, feeling much more relaxed.

He looks down at the mess he’s made, and quickly moves to clean himself up. He wonders if Bruce has ever touched himself thinking of Slade. It’s a nice thought. After he’s wiped himself down, he gets back into bed, satisfaction humming through his veins.

He really wishes he had Bruce in his arms right now. He wants to hold him close, to feel his heartbeat against his palm, to show him how much he means to Slade. Slade hasn’t felt this way about someone in a while. Bruce has taken down his guard and made him want. Bruce is brilliant and quick witted and…kind. He’s amazing inside and out. Also, watching him fight does all kinds of things to Slade. He’s also a great dad, from what Slade’s seen. He cares about those kids so much. Slade knows he’s messed up a lot with his own kids. His fully grown children. He knows it will take all of them a while to reconcile and he wants it to be on their _own_ terms, not his. He shakes himself from those thoughts.

He starts to drift. He’ll text Bruce tomorrow, see if he wants to meet up with him. Slade thinks this one café downtown would be a good choice for a date. Slade soon falls asleep, his last waking thoughts about Bruce.

//

It’s almost 1:00 o’clock on the day of their date. Slade is already seated at an outdoor table. He’s currently wearing a pair of sunglasses to hide his stick-on eye patch. Some people might recognize him if they see it. He’d really rather avoid that at the moment. Just then he sees the hostess walk out the door, followed by Bruce. And if he thought Bruce looked good in a tux… Bruce is wearing jeans. Jeans! They look amazing on him. He notices Bruce’s eyes drop to his chest, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, before he snaps them back up again.

“Bruce. Thanks for joining me.” He smiles warmly up at him.

“Of course.” Bruce replies, taking his seat.

“Your server will be with you shortly.” The hostess tells them, then tuns to head back inside.

Slade watches Bruce. He seems nervous.

“So, how are the kids?” He asks.

Bruce’s eyes narrow. “Why do you want to know?” His tone is clipped and defensive.

Slade throws up both his hand, palms facing Bruce. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Your kids are important to you, so I thought I’d ask.” He hopes that’s enough to calm Bruce.

“They’re fine.” He says sharply.

Slade sighs. “Bruce, look. I know you’re suspicious by nature, but I’m not here to gloat or threaten you or your loved ones. I invited you here so we can get to now each other better.” This is supposed to be a date. He knows his work bothers Bruce, but he’s willing to work through those issues, so they can be together.

“Okay.” Bruce replies, voice much softer than before.

Their server shows up and asks them if they’d like anything to drink. They both order black coffees. A man after his own heart.

“Alright. I’ll have those out shortly. If you need anything else feel free to ask.” The server smiles at them, then walks over to one of the other tables.

“So, tell me about yourself?” Slade asks.

“What do you want to know?” Bruce raises one of his brows in question.

“Anything you want to share.”

Bruce takes a quick breath. “Well—I’m 37, I have six kids, I was obsessed with the Gray Ghost as a child, and my favorite color is blue.”

Slade chuckles. “Blue’s your favorite color? I thought for sure it would be black.”

Bruce crosses his arms. His cheeks pinking. Fuck, he’s adorable. “Just because I wear a lot of black does not mean it’s my favorite color.”

“Of course, of course.” Slade concedes, leaning his folded arms on the table.

“Are you going to tell me about _yourself_?”

“You probably know most things about me already, with all your little files.” Slade smirks. “But here are some things you might not know. I once jumped out of a plane without a parachute to see if I could survive it, I have two kids, and my favorite color is green.”

“Not orange?” Bruce’s lips curl up for a little bit of a smile.

“Green Arrow kind of ruined the appeal of wearing a green uniform.” Slade jokes. Bruce laughs. It’s like music to his ears.

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.” Bruce says, a much larger smile on his face.

“Please do.” Slade says.

At that moment, their server comes back with their coffees in hand. “Can I get anything else for ya?”

Slade turns to face Bruce, using his brow to ask the question.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Bruce turns to smile at the waiter.

“Nothing for me either.”

“Sounds good. Enjoy.” And he’s gone again.

Bruce takes a sip of his coffee, seeming to be lost in thought. “You mentioned the other night that you have business here?”

Slade watches as Bruce’s eyes drop to his lips, staring for a moment, before focusing on his coffee instead. He’s so cute when he’s nervous.

“I do. But it’s not anything you need to worry about.” His jobs pretty much done. He just has to turn over the information he gathered last night to his contact.

“And why’s that?’ Bruce’s eyes look back up at him.

“Because it’s not one of my regular jobs. It’s a favor for a friend.” Which is mostly true.

“And that’s supposed to put my mind at ease?”

“No. I didn’t really expect it to.” He admits. “My friend asked me to keep it quiet, so I can’t tell you what it is I’m doing. Just know that what I’m doing is for a good reason.” Yeah, like keeping Black Mask from gearing up some of Batman’s baddies.

Bruce stares intently at him. He wishes he knew what Bruce is thinking.

“I believe you.” He says.

Slade feels himself relaxing. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that.

“Thank you.” Slade says, reaching out and holding Bruce’s hand in his. He squeezes it lightly. After a breath, Bruce squeezes back.

“Do you guys need any refills?” The waiter’s voice brings them back to the present. Bruce pulls his hand out of Slade’s and puts it in his lap. Slade tries not to feel disappointed by it. Bruce just might not be comfortable showing affection to another man out in public. Not a big deal.

“We’re good, thanks.” Slade answers for the both of them. “Bruce. You okay?”

It wasn’t his intention to make Bruce uncomfortable. Slade can be pretty touchy-feely when he’s with someone. He’ll just have to pull back some to make sure he’s not pushing past boundaries he shouldn’t.

Bruce jumps at the question. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Slade frowns. “It looked like you were thinking hard about something.”

“Oh.” Bruce puts on a very stiff smile. It looks like one of his public persona smiles. “Nothing to worry about. I was just thinking about what one of my kids said earlier.”

“Okay…” Slade is less than convinced.

“I’m fine, Slade. I promise.” Slade will just have to take his word for it. He doesn’t want to push. This is all still very new for the both of them.

Slade leans back in his chair, resting his arms on the armrests. He gives a smile to Bruce, hoping to ease some of Bruce’s tensions. He doesn’t want Bruce to be so nervous and guarded around him.

“I don’t think we’ve finished getting to know each other yet. How about you tell me about your hobbies?”

“My hobbies?” Bruce asks, brows furrowing.

“Yeah. Besides your obvious nighttime activities.” Slade teases.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Well, Alfred and I have been collecting first edition copies of books for years now.”

“Interesting. Didn’t peg you for an avid book reader.”

“I’m not really. It’s just—Alfred and I have been doing it for years. It makes me feel closer to him. And when Jay came to live with us, he wanted to join us too.” Bruce’s face starts to fall, his earlier smile dropping. “We stopped collecting them for years afterwards. It was too painful a reminder.”

Oh, hell.

“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” Way to go, Slade. You just made the man relive the loss of his son.

“No. It’s fine. He’s back now and I couldn’t be more grateful.” He tries to give Slade a reassuring look. Bruce clears his throat. “So, what do you like to do for fun?” He asks, taking another sip of coffee.

“I like to fuck.” He says, waiting for Bruce’s reaction. He sees Bruce start to choke, and then he starts coughing.

He only coughs for a minute at most, but once he’s finished, he glares up at Slade. Slade just smirks. “It’s not funny, Slade”

“It’s kind of funny.” He chuckles.

Bruce groans.

“You did ask.” Slade says.

“I was expecting you to say something like go for a run or watch TV or something. Not—that.”

Slade tilts his head. “It’s really not that big a deal, Bruce. Sex is and should be fun for all parties involved.”

“I’m aware.” Bruce retorts.

Slade’s grin turns mischievous. “I should’ve figure. You do have a ton of kids.”

“Only one is biologically mine.” Bruce remarks back.

“See. We’re learning so much about each other.” Slade gestures with one of his hands, his grin growing wider.

Bruce narrows his eyes at him, then drinks the rest of his coffee. Slade has barely touched his. Slade laughs a little at Bruce’s little passive aggression.

“Alright. I have to know.” Slade takes a moment to make sure Bruce’s full attention is on him. “Are you and Batman secretly lovers in the night?”

“Slade!” Bruce shouts, sounding scandalized.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Slade teases.

“You’re unbelievable.” Bruce mutters, rolling his eyes again.

“You know it, baby.” Slade replies. Bruce freezes, inhaling sharply, his cheeks turning a bright red. Slade will have to remember that.

Then the waiter is back again. “All good here? Do y’all need anything else?”

“Just the check, please.” Slade turns to face the boy more directly.

“Yeah, of course.” He pulls out the check-holder and hands it off to Slade. He must be making a lot of assumptions about their dynamic. Slade laughs internally. He quickly pulls out a card and hands both over to their waiter. “Be back in a jiffy.”

Bruce is staring at Slade, look of confusion on his face. “I could have paid.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Slade smiles at him. He knows Bruce is wealthy, but he likes to pay for things. It makes him feel like he’s providing for his partner.

“Slade. I am one of the wealthiest people in the country, I can pay for a couple cups of coffee.” It’s almost a whine. He’s so fucking cute.

“And I have plenty of money of my own. Next time, you can buy, okay?” He hears Bruce’s breath catch. He’s not sure how to interpret that. Was he thinking there wouldn’t be a next time? That Slade doesn’t want to see him again?

“Fine.” Bruce concedes.

The server comes back and hands everything back over to Slade, wishes them a good day, and heads over to the other table. Slade takes out a couple hundred dollars, placing them with the check. Bruce tosses down a few himself. Slade’s not going to stop him. The kid could probably use the money. They both stand form their seats and walk back through the café to the street. They walk side by side all the way to Bruce’s car.

“Thanks for meeting with me. I had fun.” Slade says, standing close enough that Bruce has to tilt his head up to see his face.

“Yeah. Me too.” God, he wants to kiss him. He entertains the notion of pushing Bruce back up against his car and kissing the shit out of him. But then he decides against it. He doesn’t want to do it if it will make Bruce uncomfortable. They’ll have to work up to public displays of affection.

“I’ll see you around.” He settles on, giving Bruce one last smile, before walking away, heading to his bike.

He’s learned a lot from this date of theirs. Not just about Bruce’s life, but about him in general. Slade’s excited for the next time he gets to spend time with him. Slade smiles the whole way home.

//

It’s the morning after one of the bats patrols. And now he has Bruce all to himself. Bruce is currently straddling him, hands planted firmly on his chest. He’s also about three fingers deep into Bruce. He looks gorgeous like this.

“Alright, baby. You ready?” Slade asks, slipping his fingers from inside him. Bruce whines at the loss but nods his head. “Take it slow.”

Bruce reaches back, guiding Slade’s lubed up cock to his entrance. He slowly starts sinking down on it. He inhales sharply.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well.” He reassures, caressing Bruce’s thighs.

“Mm…Slade…” Bruce sounds wrecked already.

“Take it slow.” He reminds him.

Bruce sinks lower and lower. His eyes flutter closed; his hands pressed firmly on Slade’s chest to give himself more support. Finally, Bruce is fully seated. He takes a few steadying breaths. Slade places his hands on Bruce’s hips. He waits for Bruce to make the first move, letting him adjust to Slade’s cock inside him. Bruce takes it slow at first; lifting up, then sinking back down. Bruce does this a couple more times at the same pace, before gradually increasing the speed. When Bruce is coming back down again, Slade thrusts his hips up to meet him. Bruce gasps loudly, fingers digging into Slade’s chest. _Oh, fuck_. They begin moving in tandem, with Slade wringing more and more glorious sounds out of Bruce. He feels amazing. Slade can’t believe he gets to have him. Gets to see him like _this_.

“Slade…” Bruce moans. Sweat is dripping down him, his arms look like their shaking. “Slade, please.”

Bruce’s arms start giving out, and at that moment Slade shoots up, wrapping his arms around Bruce. Now Slade is sitting with a debauched Bruce in his lap. It’s a dream come true, honestly. Bruce wraps his arms around Slade’s shoulders, letting him hold up his weight. Slade continues thrusting up into him, drawing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Slade.” His name is barely more than a moan. “Slade!”

Bruce clings to him tighter, clenching around Slade’s cock. Slade groans, biting the junction between Bruce’s neck and shoulder.

“Slade!” Bruce cries out again. His fingers claw at Slade’s shoulder blades, as his orgasm crashes over him. Slade continues his motions and soon follows Bruce over, spilling inside him. Bruce pants loudly, resting heavily against Slade. Slade just holds him close, rubbing hands soothingly up and down his back.

“You did so well. You were perfect.” Slade says, placing kisses along Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce just _hmms._ Slade slowly pulls Bruce off his softening cock. He lays Bruce down on the bed, kissing him once on the lips. Then he turns to the bedside table where he left a damp cloth. He’s more prepared this time. He wipes Bruce down, Bruce still trembling slightly. He tosses the washcloth away and turns back to Bruce.

Slade smiles and bends down to start kissing his way up Bruce’s chest, to his neck (kissing the marks that he’s left), to his face, leading all the way back to his lips. Bruce lifts his hand and places it against Slade’s cheek. Their kisses are tender, loving. Slade pulls away to gaze down at him.

“You’re beautiful.” Slade says quietly, running his fingers over Bruce’s face.

Bruce flushes a bright red. It’s adorable.

Slade chuckles softly then flops down onto his back.

Bruce, not to be outdone, whispers in his ear. “You make me happy.” That’s high praise coming from the Bat. Slade smiles up at him. Bruce grins back. He lays his head down on Slade’s chest and wraps an arm around his waist, snuggling closer. Slade runs his fingertips lightly over Bruce’s back.

“Get some rest, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've made it to the end! Yay! Thanks for being here! I hope you've had a good time and I 'd love to hear all your thoughts! I'm wishing you all the best!


End file.
